


If You Could See Your Soul

by StarsandJellyfish



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Dean Winchester (mentioned) - Freeform, First Kiss, Getting Together, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Sam Winchester Has Self-Esteem Issues, Sam Winchester's Soul, Souls
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-13
Updated: 2020-05-13
Packaged: 2021-03-02 18:26:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,931
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24171274
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StarsandJellyfish/pseuds/StarsandJellyfish
Summary: Sam is researching in the library, but he can feel Gabriel and Castiel staring at him. He knows that they're looking at his soul, but wishes they wouldn't. He knows what his soul looks like. Gabriel has something to say on the matter.
Relationships: Gabriel/Sam Winchester
Comments: 13
Kudos: 187





	If You Could See Your Soul

If You Could See Your Soul

Sam shifted uncomfortably, feeling both Castiel’s and Gabriel’s eyes burning through his back. He knew they must be speaking between themselves silently, using their weird angel-mojo to talk without ever opening their mouths. Ever since Gabriel had come to stay at the Bunker after they’d all escaped the Apocalypse World together, Cas and Gabe had started talking like that a lot, confusing and excluding Sam and Dean both. Normally, it wouldn’t bother Sam, but doing so while they were staring at him?

He could feel his shoulders tensing. Cursing himself inside his head and deliberately forcing his muscles to relax, Sam tried to refocus on the book spread wide on the table before him. Taking a deep breath of the musty smell emanating from the pages, fingers lightly resting on the paper, Sam tried to will himself back into the book. It wasn’t working. He could _feel_ their eyes on him, peering through him, staring deep into his deepest depths.

After a few more seconds of squirming uncomfortably, Sam slammed the book shut with a snap. Turning round, he was surprised to see that he’d made both the angels jump, something that Dean always found pleasure in. Dean wasn’t there right now, though, so nobody could distract him from what he was going to say.

“Would you please stop staring at me?” he asked. He’d been trying to make his voice demanding, but it had come out as soft, hurt. Gritting his teeth, he let his eyes drift away from them, fixing instead on the bookcases to the left of them. “It’s making me uncomfortable.”

Both Cas and Gabe tilted their heads in that way angels did when they didn’t understand, bird-like. Sam supressed the urge to groan, keeping his eyes fixed on the bookcase instead of leaning his head back like he wanted to. He _knew_ what they were doing, what they were looking at, and it was annoying him. If they hated his soul that much – and he could understand why they did – they could always not look at it. Sam knew that angels didn’t have to look at souls, had been around both Cas and Gabe often enough to know that they could also focus on his body if they preferred.

Neither angel moved their gaze away, though the way his hair began laying flat again, he knew they were looking at him, not his soul.

“Seriously, guys,” he rolled his shoulders, hoping he didn’t look too awkward. “I’m trying to concentrate. I can’t do that when you guys are…”

He trailed off, not really sure how to finish his sentence. If they both knew he knew they were staring at his soul, they might feel embarrassed and guilty. Or, more realistically, at least on Gabriel’s part, they might feel the need to tell him how ugly it was, how torn and scarred and blackened from his choices and his time in the Cage. Sam _knew_ he had an ugly soul, he just wished they couldn’t see it, not least because he knew he could have wonderful relationships with the both of them, if they didn’t know how awful he truly was.

Cas was a brilliant friend to him already, but he knew if Cas wasn’t always fixating on the rot within Sam he’d be able to get closer. Cas wouldn’t hold himself at a distance, wouldn’t spend most of his time around Dean and what Sam could imagine was a shining, brilliant soul. He knew his brother. Dean wouldn’t have a soul that was any less than magnificent.

As for Gabriel, well… Sam had definitely had a crush on him when he knew him as the Trickster, back before the Mystery Spot. It had taken some time to get over Gabriel’s torturous idea of help, and even now it still ached, dull and thudding, though Gabe had apologised for it after he’d regained his strength. After losing Gabriel to Lucifer – a memory that still haunted Sam to that day – Sam had mourned the loss of the archangel, mourned the loss of someone who had the potential to be a friend and ally. When Gabriel was brought back to them by Ketch, Sam had been both astonished and pleased, though horrified by the state the archangel was in.

He’d patched Gabriel up as best he could, brought him back from within the shell of himself. They’d spent time bonding after getting out of the Apocalypse world, becoming proper friends – at least on Sam’s part – and becoming something deeper, too. For Sam, at least, Gabriel was a man – archangel, whatever – that he loved. From what he could remember of Jessica, before the Cage, he felt about Gabriel how he’d felt about her, though the situation with Gabriel was far more hopeless than his early days with Jess. Gabe was an archangel, a creature who deserved the very best, and one who could see Sam’s ruined soul. There was no way he’d ever get anything, anything at all, with Gabriel.

With the angels still staring at him, Sam shifted his chair around, turning so his body was facing them both.

“Please,” he asked, still refusing to look at either of them. “It’s really distracting.”

“We’re not looking at you, Sam-a-lam,” Gabriel finally piped up, his voice warm and jubilant. When Sam flicked his raised-brow gaze to the archangel, Gabriel’s golden eyes were sparkling, crinkled lines at the corners as he smiled. “We’re looking at—”

“My soul,” Sam sighed, looking down at the floor. “I know, Gabe.”

“So what’s the problem?” Gabriel teased, shifting where he sat next to Cas. Next to him, Cas continued to watch Sam with his creepy stare. “We’re just doing some harmless soul-watching. What’s up?”

“Um…” Sam paused, not really sure what Gabriel was getting at. The fact that neither angel seemed particularly apologetic, yet neither was telling him his soul was awful, was throwing him off. “Um… I can… feel it?” Gabriel raised an eyebrow. Snorting, Sam turned his chair back to the book. “It’s uncomfortable. Don’t.”

“But I like looking at your soul, Samsquatch,” Gabriel whined, sending surprise rushing through Sam. Why on Earth did Gabriel enjoy seeing his soul? Maybe he liked reminding himself of the damage to Sam’s character, liked to see that Gabriel wasn’t the only one who had survived torture, and had probably survived it better. Hunching over, Sam tried to ignore him.

“Did you hear me?” Sam jolted violently at the words spoken in his ear, warm breath stroking his cheek. Gabriel had moved, now practically leaning over his shoulder, speaking gleefully to Sam’s profile. “I said I liked seeing your soul, Samba.”

Slamming his hands down onto the table with quite some force, enough to leave his palms stinging and red, Sam spun to face the archangel.

“ _Why_?” he asked, flicking his gaze between Gabriel and Cas. Cas looked apologetic, standing behind Gabriel with his hands reaching out for Gabriel’s arm, fingers curling into imaginary limbs as if to pull his brother back. “Why do you keep _saying that_?”

“Brother,” Cas warned, voice held at a stage-whisper. Gabriel was left paused, mouth open and throat working, but no sound coming out. “I believe Sam has negative feelings towards his soul.”

Resisting the urge to cover his face, Sam narrowed his eyes at Cas. Why the angel had thought it okay to just admit that to Gabriel without even asking, Sam had no idea. Cas, despite all the time he’d spent with the brothers, could still be very unpractised when it came to social interactions, often making blunders. Really, Sam shouldn’t have been surprised.

“Thanks, Cas,” Sam huffed, setting his jaw in a way Sam knew Dean would describe as a ‘bitchface’. Before Gabriel could say anything, Sam cut him off, “I just… I know…” Unsure of what he wanted to say, struggling to get the words out with both angels watching him intently, Sam shrank back in on himself, “It just makes me uncomfortable.”

“Your soul?” Gabriel tried to clarify, tilting his head to the side again. Seriously, they’d have to stop doing that soon, or Sam was going to pick up the habit. “Your _soul_ makes you uncomfortable?”

“I mean, I guess,” Sam shrugged, furrowing his brow. His soul _did_ make him uncomfortable, but only because of how he knew it must look. It was his body that gave him trouble most days, barely feeling like it belonged to him. He’d died too many times, left his body too many times, been possessed too many times for his body to really feel like his own anymore. “It’s not… Look, I don’t want to talk about this. Just… Stop staring and let me research.”

“You are not researching anything pressing,” Cas objected, moving to stand level with Gabriel. Both angels were staring down at Sam with a piercing gaze, making him shift uncomfortably all over again. “If you cannot focus, nobody is going to get hurt.”

“I know that, Cas,” Sam stressed, finally giving in to the urge to hide his face. Running his hands over it, he resisted the urge to pull at his own hair. “I just like to research for me, sometimes.”

“Ah,” Cas nodded knowingly, turning to Gabriel as if to impart great wisdom. “A hobby.”

Gabriel laughed, reaching up to pat Cas on the shoulder. Sam couldn’t blame him. Sometimes, Cas’ idea of great wisdom was pretty weak when it came to imparting actual knowledge, but he was still good to talk to when it came to history or angel lore. It was just a shame that, at the moment, Cas was making Sam seem particularly lame in front of Gabriel, both by letting slip secrets of Sam’s and by making Sam out to be a boring nerd who did nothing but research. Thinking about it, Sam realised that it might have been true, but still…

“Yeah,” Sam nodded, leaning back in his chair. “A hobby. So, if you’d like to stop staring and let me get on with it…”

“No can do, Sam-I-Am,” Gabriel shook his head, causing both Sam and Cas to look at him. Cas was looking considering, but Sam just felt jittery annoyance. Nerves raced through him, screaming at him that, if he didn’t get out of the conversation soon, he’d know just what Gabriel thought of him, leaving him unable to day-dream about _them_ anymore. “Souls shouldn’t make a person feel uncomfortable.”

He actually looked concerned, as if he couldn’t work out why Sam’s soul would make him feel that way. Studying him, Sam furrowed his brow.

“You can see my soul,” Sam began, talking slowly as if that would make Gabriel understand better. “You can see why it might make me uncomfortable.”

“Ah,” Cas spoke up again, distracting Sam and Gabriel from their sudden staring contest. Gold and hazel eyes both slid over to Cas, who was looking as if he’d just realised something. Looking between the two of them, he nodded to himself, then stepped backwards. “I think it best if you explain to Sam, brother,” he decided, continuing to move backwards. “I will go and find Jack. I said we would go into Lebanon today.”

Sam narrowed his eyes as Cas high-tailed it out of the room. Shaking his head, he tried to ignore Gabriel, who’s gaze had moved back to him once Cas had left to find Jack. Normally, Sam would be a little concerned. Neither Jack nor Cas were particularly good at social interaction, and having the both of them wandering Lebanon together could lead to some interesting situations that Sam and Dean would have to fix. Right then, Sam could only focus on the situation he was in, Gabriel’s considering eyes fixed on him.

“I can see your soul,” Gabriel began, pausing when Sam winced. He really, _really_ didn’t want to be having this conversation. Turning his face back to the table, Sam tried to ignore Gabriel’s voice. “I can see your soul, Sam, but I don’t think I see what you think I see.”

Sam raised a questioning eyebrow, pale face turned towards Gabriel, but eyes fixed on the dull shine of the tabletop.

“I might be wrong, but…” Gabriel’s tone was serious, one that Sam had rarely heard from the archangel, but one that drew him to the angel all the same. The fact that Gabriel could be so playful at times, but so serious at others, drew him in and kept him there, stuck in Gabriel’s orbit, wishing he could be closer but never daring to take the chance. “You think your soul is dirty, don’t you?”

Wincing, Sam tried to turn away from the archangel. A hand reached out and clasped his chin, forcing Sam’s face to stay pinned in Gabriel’s direction. Sam resisted the urge to lean into the hand, ignoring how soft it was. Gabriel’s fingers didn’t cut into his skin, instead resting there firm and steady, encouraging instead of forcing. Keeping his head up and not dipping his chin into the cup of the palm was a struggle, but Sam made it.

“Gabriel…” Sam whispered, closing his eyes against the shame he felt. He didn’t just think his soul was dirty, he knew it. Cas had told Dean once how scarred his soul was, how ruined, and Dean had passed that information along in a moment of drunken idiocy. The next morning, Dean had tried to reassure Sam in his own way that his soul wasn’t ruined, but Sam had known from then on that there was nothing he could do. His soul was in tatters, scarred and broken and burned, barely clinging together in his body. No wonder the angels couldn’t stop staring at it. It must have been quite the spectacle.

“No, Sam,” Gabriel shook his head softly, his features soft and sad. “Your soul isn’t like that, not at all.”

Snorting softly, Sam pulled his chin out of Gabriel’s grip, curling into himself.

“Death said so,” he pointed out, hunching his shoulders and tucking his chin downwards. “Dean told me.”

“Your brother is an idiot,” Gabriel declared, causing Sam to shoot a protective glare Gabriel’s way. A guilty smile spread over Gabriel’s face, his eyes shining with mischief, and Sam couldn’t help the small smile he sent back. “No offence.”

Shaking his head, Sam closed his eyes against Gabriel’s charm.

“But really, Sam,” Gabriel began again, voice holding promise and weight. “Your soul isn’t dirty.”

“But the demon blood…” Sam questioned, regretting it when Gabriel winced, an unreadable expression flitting across his features for just a second. “It must have ruined my soul.”

“Nope, no,” the archangel shook his head, standing straight and folding his arms across his chest in an echo of Sam’s own stubborn pose. Briefly, Sam wondered which of them could out-stubborn the other, before shaking the thought away. “We’re not going into that. You do have some darkness in your soul, it is visible, but… it’s not ruined.”

Sam opened his mouth to apologise, to explain, to do something, he didn’t know what. Holding up a hand, Gabriel stopped him. The archangel’s jaw was set in a stubborn line, his eyes steely and flat. Gabriel would be brooking no argument over this.

“Don’t even, Sam,” Gabriel warned, his use of Sam’s name telling the hunter just how serious he was. “Everyone’s soul has darkness in it. Even your oh-so-wonderful brother’s.”

Somehow, Sam wasn’t surprised at that. He didn’t expect Dean to go to Hell, wear the Mark of Cain and become a demon without it affecting his soul somehow, but he also knew that Dean’s soul must have been so much better than his. Dean was the Righteous Man, the one Heaven loved and the one they had expected to bear Michael within. While that wasn’t exactly something to be proud of, not for the Winchesters anyway, that didn’t mean his soul was any less impressive.

“Dean’s a good man,” Sam pointed out, eyes meeting Gabriel’s with a hard warning. Gabriel wouldn’t be disagreeing with him about this. He knew that Gabriel and Dean still struggled to get along, both of them furious with the other most of the time, but even so. Sam wouldn’t tolerate anyone trying to bring his brother down, even Gabriel, the archangel he had begun to love. “He’s a hero.”

“If you say so,” Gabriel shrugged, not willing to necessarily agree on that statement, but not willing to start a fight either. Ignoring the urge to tell Gabriel about everything Dean had done for the world until the archangel agreed with him, Sam focused back in on the conversation. “Still, your soul isn’t ruined, Sam. It’s beautiful.”

Sam scoffed at that.

“Really, it is,” Gabriel offered, eyes soft and hopeful, practically willing Sam to believe him. “I’ve never seen another soul like it.”

Shaking his head, Sam turned away from the archangel. Hearing these things from Gabriel would just get his hopes up unnecessarily. Just because Gabriel hadn’t seen another soul like his, just because he thought it was beautiful, didn’t mean he didn’t think it was ruined. Death had said so, Sam could _feel_ it: the tattered remains of his soul didn’t fit right within him. Ruined things could be beautiful, but that didn’t mean people wanted them. Haunted old houses could be beautiful in their own way, but Sam had never been incensed to stay in one.

“It’s so bright,” Gabriel continued, acting as if he couldn’t see Sam’s discomfort, the way he was shifting his weight in his seat. Golden eyes were still riveted on Sam, still studying him, but if Gabriel saw the way Sam was tensing up, the way a lump was developing in his throat, he didn’t mention it, didn’t stop talking. “There are scars on it, yeah, but the light just shines right through. Your soul, it’s so much bigger and stronger than most people’s, so much brighter. My brother—” Sam winced at the mention, knowing Gabriel meant Lucifer, “was the Lightbringer. You can see in your soul why you were his perfect match, but… When he fell, his light became darkness, rotted through and riddled with black. Your light… it’s still light, Sam. Blindingly so.”

Struggling to swallow around the lump in his throat, Sam curled down over himself. Before he knew it, Gabriel was kneeling between his legs, looking up into his face. With trembling hands, Sam tried to reach up to hide himself, but Gabriel caught at his wrists, keeping them firmly in place. Thumbs rubbed soothing circles into his skin, pressing gently against the veins there. Watery and unclear, Gabriel knelt between Sam’s legs as tears fell, clearing Sam’s eyes and leaving Gabriel watching him, firm and clear-cut. His face was soft, open, and his smile was gentle. Reaching out his shaking hands, Sam placed them on Gabriel’s shoulders, the archangel letting go of his wrists to cradle his face instead.

“You think your soul is ruined, lesser than your brother’s,” Gabriel continued, thumbs brushing the silent tears from Sam’s cheeks. “Dean’s soul is glorious, Sam, it really is, but it’s not as bright, nor as beautiful to me. You shine like a sun, Sam,” Gabriel’s smile was caring, loving, and Sam felt his breath catch. Reaching up with dampened hands, Gabriel brushed Sam’s hair back, anointing his forehead with his own tears. “My Samshine.”

Shaking his head, eyes shifting to the ceiling to force back his tears, Sam leaned forward into Gabriel. Burying his head in the archangel’s shoulder, smelling candy and ozone and sunlight, Sam breathed deep, steadying breaths. Gabriel paused, frozen, before letting out a soft chuckle. Wrapping his arms around Sam’s wide shoulders, the archangel pulled him down into a warm hug, hands rubbing at Sam’s back. It took a few minutes for Sam to feel ready to pull back.

When he did, his breath caught again. Gabriel was looking at him with such love and care that Sam could scarcely believe it. Warm golden eyes were fixed on him, soft crinkles at their corners as the archangel smiled somewhat nervously. Gently, Sam reached out to brush at the lines, feeling warm air stroke over his wrist as Gabriel let out an amused huff. Holding himself like that, Sam studied the archangel, wondering what he was thinking. It wasn’t long before he found out.

Indicating what he was doing, giving Sam enough time to pull away if he wanted to, Gabriel began to lean up. Understanding flooded Sam, along with a nervous heat, and he leaned down to meet the archangel. Soft lips met his own dry ones in a chaste kiss, something Sam never would have expected from the archangel, but it fit the moment, fit their feelings. He pulled back, a gentle smile on his face.

“Your soul is beautiful, Sam,” Gabriel promised, hand reaching up to stroke Sam’s cheek. “You’re beautiful.”

“Gabe,” Sam breathed out, feeling his muscles relax and his jitters die as he did so. “Gabe, I… I—”

“I know,” Gabriel soothed, shifting his hand from Sam’s cheek to press a finger against his lips, shushing him. “I know you do, Sam. And I do, too, but there’s no need to strain yourself trying to say it. We’ll get there.”

Warmth rushed through Sam’s system, joy overtaking him to know that Gabriel loved him. With a slowly spreading grin, Sam leaned down again, catching Gabriel’s mouth with his own. Gabriel’s hand skittered back to his cheek, cradling his head.

This time, their kiss was more heated, Sam licking his way into the archangel’s mouth, sucking on his tongue when he was granted entrance. His fingers caught as they ran through silky golden strands, his heart beating faster as Gabriel’s thumbs rubbed heated lines over his cheekbones. He explored the angel’s mouth, loving the candy-sweet and power-bitter tang Gabriel had. Their tongues twined, Gabriel groaning low in his throat, a pleasured hum bursting from Sam’s chest. Stomach swooping and joy bubbling, Sam cooled the kiss. His hand untangled from golden locks, stroking down to cup the back of Gabriel’s neck. 

Pulling back, they smiled at each other, Gabriel’s eyes twinkling with joy. Sam felt a bubbly laugh rising up in his chest, and before he could hold it back, it spilled out of him. Light flared in Gabriel’s expression as he heard Sam’s laugh, his hands moving from Sam’s cheeks down to his shoulders. As he stood, Sam stood with him, not really understanding why he did it, just feeling the need to move. He wouldn’t be researching for a few hours, at least, but it wasn’t because he was feeling uncomfortably watched anymore.

Smiling up at him, Gabriel reached for his hand, tugging him along towards the kitchen, out of the library. The archangel was talking about making celebratory pancakes or something like that, but Sam wasn’t really paying attention. He was too busy thinking about his soul, about how Gabriel saw it.

Everything the archangel said about it was wonderful, believable. He hadn’t said that the blood hadn’t left it’s mark, but he’d reassured him it didn’t matter. He hadn’t said that Sam’s soul wasn’t scarred, but he’d promised it was still beautiful. Sam knew he’d have trouble believing what Gabriel told him all the time, but he knew he’d have Gabriel to reassure him when he needed it. But for now, he was happy and reassured and with the man he loved, who apparently loved him back, and he was going to make the most of it. He’d worry later, there were pancakes to make.

**Author's Note:**

> Hi, I hope you enjoyed this piece. I'd normally consider myself a multi-shipper (Sam Winchester and the love and respect he deserves, mostly ;p), even if this is my first 'pairing' story, but my mind has been screaming Sabriel at me for days, meaning the birth of this fic (and a few others). I mostly wrote this one because I've found loads of Sastiel pieces all over the internet in which they talk about Sam's soul - which was incredibly bright compared to the souls he found in bottles in Mother's Little Helper - and maybe I've just been looking in the wrong places, but I can't find many Sabriel versions, so I thought I'd add my own.  
> Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this piece, and I thank you for reading. :)


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